An Indelicate Beginning
by DooodleBerry
Summary: REVISED: For THC round 9 short


{ :Short Backup Round Nine: }

House: Stand in-Gryffindor

Position: Stand in Fifth Year

Wordcount w/o AN: 1618

Name: An indelicate Beginning

Prompt{s}: Word {Indelicate}

A/N: Muggle Clothing shop AU, Enemies to Lovers, Characters may be OOC at times.

It was a cold day on Godric Lanenue, and many people were out and about in order to warm themselves up whilst still being social. A little way along the path of Godric Lane is a warm shop called Honeyduke's Cloth & Co.. Inside, unbeknownst to the people walking along in the December air, there were two young women, around their late teens, arguing about fabric. One would have to enter the shop and walk all the way to the back, finding the section titled 'flannel,' to see how the, for lack of a less indelicate word, argument, broke out.

It was 11:11 in the morning when a curly brown-haired girl entered the shop. She was looking around, clearly with something particular she'd needed. Her hazel-brown eyes glistened in the dim light cast by the shop's hanging lanterns that provided an adequate light source for those who wished to buy any clothing from them. This pale skinned, heavily freckled girl was, not to sound indelicate, a clothing snob. Now this is nothing new in the small, secluded town of Hogsmeade; everyone knows everything about everyone. All the indecencies people do, all the acts of charity, every intricacy of the other people who inhabit it.

The town is cloudy on this December day; the mountains and hills that encase the town don't help to better the visibility, which has created the illusion of dusk. It's dark enough that the intricate and ornate street lights have been lit, and a light dusting of snow has begun to fall from the cloud cover that blankets the town.

Speaking of blankets, the little golden bell at the door of Honeyduke's Cloth & Co. rang as someone new stepped into the cloth shop, in need of a blanket. Her fiery red hair didn't do much to keep her warm when she was outside, which would explain the layers of scarves and jackets she'd worn into the shop today. Her dark brown eyes looked across the shop as she finally spotted what she was looking for, a small sign that said 'Flannel.' Now she knew she could find a good, warm blanket here.

This girl, Ginny Weasley, breathed in the cold air before walking back to the section of flannel where she'd hoped she could find a lovely, warm blanket in. As she'd approached it however, she saw a girl looking quite furious at the piles of flannel before her. The dark, frizzy-haired girl looked up as she saw Ginny approaching her. A little wary of what was going to happen next, Ginny had taken a slight step back, and though she hadn't been trying to be indelicate, she'd presumed the girl opposite her to be a tad crazy.

"Can you believe this?" the girl suddenly asked, wringing her hands in frustration.

"Believe...what exactly?" Ginny replied with an inquiry of her own, not quite understanding what the presumably crazy girl was asking her about.

The girl scoffed and sighed before tying her hair into a neat bun. It was similar to the way a teacher or a parent would tie their hair back before explaining something to their child or to a group of students who didn't understand a problem.

"That this is all labeled flannel of course! Flannel isn't just a piece of fabric that has plaid on it; it's a special soft fabric that's so warm and comfortable. This all shouldn't even be here," the girl explained in a very matter of fact tone to Ginny. Ginny didn't quite agree, but just as she was about to say something about it, the girl continued.

"Now not to sound indelicate but this is blasphemy! Absolute blasphemy!" she cried out.

At this outburst, the shop owner moved off of their bar stool behind the counter, and switched their quiet reading position to the floor.

"Well, I hope you don't think I'm an indelicate person by me saying this, but I think that anything with plaid on it counts as flannel. Like a blanket, see that one? Flannel. That shirt over there, flannel. It's simple for me," Ginny said, stopping the girl before she could march over to the front desk counter where the poor shopkeeper was done with the arguments for the day and just wanted some peace and quiet.

"Well, I'd know, I'm a lesbian," the girl said to Ginny, which made Ginny scoff.

"Such plain, indelicate words you're using," Ginny joked, poking fun at the girl who stood opposite her.

"But if we're playing it that way, I am too," she said, which made the girl stand back and think for a moment about the situation at hand.

"Well this is unpleasant, it seems we've come to an impasse. Also I'd _never_ use indelicate words, not to someone I barely know," the girl said, giving herself an air of dignity, which didn't bother Ginny much; many people in the town prized dignity.

"Well, what if we got to know each other more? If you wouldn't mind, we can go to a coffee hut and continue our…passionate discussion of whether or not flannel counts for all plaid," she said.

"I'm Ginny by the way, Ginny Weasley. I felt introductions were necessary." She offered her hand to the girl, hoping she'd shake it and take her up on the coffee offer, for she'd become quite famished.

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger. It's a rather indelicate pleasure to make your acquaintance this way, but it'll have to do," the girl, now known as Hermione, said.

"Yes, it is, but what's done is done; there's not much we can do about it now anyway. I do know of a great coffee shop a block or so down the road if you'd do me the honor of joining me," Ginny said, opening her arm in a grandiose way, similar to what gentlemen in the Victorian era would use to offer their partners an arm as a gesture of kindness. Hermione didn't take it, to the dismay of Ginny, who was quite hoping to go past all the flannel discussions. Walking beside the brown-haired girl she was quiet, studying the face of the girl who looked like she was deep in thought. Her face was scrunched up as if she'd seen or smelled something truly indelicate and immediately returned to her normal state of expression. This change surprised Ginny to say the least. Not that she was going to be indelicate and complain about it; she wouldn't want to get into another argument with the girl she just met. It's not very long before she spotted the small, cozy coffee shop that she loves.  
"This way madam," she said with a fake bow as she opened the door for Hermione. Hermione snorted and smiled before flattening the hair on her head. This caused Ginny to give her a questioning look to which she replied with a simple sentence, proving the fact that she's quite proper indeed.

"It looked indelicate." Is the sentence she'd spoken, which made Ginny want to laugh, but then again she couldn't do that; it'd be seen as rude. They walked up to the menu and looked at the coffee choices before placing their orders and grabbing a table. They ended up talking about anything but flannel, college life, what their life aspirations were. They bonded over many things.

"You know, it's been nice meeting you. Even if we had an indelicate start to this whole thing," Ginny said with a smile, to which the girl sitting opposite her also smiled.

"Yeah. And you know, if you want my number we could do this again. Maybe I could take us somewhere fancy," Hermione replied with a smile, to which Ginny blushed.

"You mean like a date?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly like a date," Hermione replied, still smiling.

And like that, it was as if nothing had gone wrong; they'd started out as enemies and turned out to be perfect for each other. Opposites attract, or so it's been told. With the indelicate beginning to their story, they came to a beautiful end.

"And that's how I met your mother," Ginny says, smiling at her eleven-year-old, who's just been accepted into a boarding school.

"Mom does love saying the word indelicate," the young girl says. This causes Ginny to laugh.

"Yes she does, I think indelicate is actually her favorite word ever since she met me," Ginny says, laughing to herself at the thought of when her and Hermione met.

"Who's saying that indelicate is whose favorite word now?" Hermione asks, entering the room and sitting down with her family near the fire.

"It's yours," Ginny and her daughter both say in unison.

Hermione chuckles and nods her head."Maybe it is my favorite word, you'll never know," she says, smiling with a wink. "Now pack your things, you're going to school tomorrow," Hermione says, shooing her daughter up to her room. As the young, redheaded girl leaves to her room to pack for school, Hermione sighs and leans in, resting her head on her wife's shoulder.

"We did start out indelicately though; couldn't you have made something up to tell her?" she says.

"It _is_ your favorite word, I knew it!" Ginny exclaims, which earns her The Look™.

"Anyway, I felt like she needed to know the truth. And admit it, it is your favorite word," she says.

"Fine, indelicate is my favorite word," Hermione says, causing Ginny to laugh.

"We've done well Hermione, we've done well," Ginny says, sighing.

 **A gorgeous relationship born from an argument has blossomed. A family grew out of the seeds of nothing. And most importantly of all, Ginny finally made Hermione admit that her favorite word** ** _is_** **'** **indelicate'.**


End file.
